"Oh, it exists all right. You just have to want to find it." He picked
up a pebble and tossed it toward the surf, now rapidly disappearing in
the dusk. "So what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that maybe Troy was a real place and maybe not. But that's
almost beside the point. What it really is is a symbol for that
something or somebody we're all looking for. Whatever special it is we
each want. Like when I came here to work for SatCom. Space was my Troy.
It was what I wanted. And when you tried to re-create the voyage of
Ulysses, you were thinking you could make something that was a myth
into something that was real. Big impossibility."
"You're saying the search for Troy is actually just an inner voyage,
and I got caught up in trying to make it literal. The boat and all."
"Well, that's what myth is really about, isn't it? We make up a story
using real, concrete things to symbolize our inner journey."
"You're saying Ulysses could have sailed up a creek, for all it
mattered?"
'That's exactly what I'm saying." She leaned back. "Shit, I want a
pizza so bad right now I think I'm going crazy."
Vance was still pondering her put-down of his _Odyssey_ rerun,
wondering if maybe she wasn't onto something. Maybe he had learned more
about himself in two days on the island than he would have learned in
two years plying the Aegean.
"All right," she said finally. "I'm sorry. I've busted your chops
enough. You asked if I'd like to take a sail, and I said maybe. The
truth is, I would, but I've also got a journey of my own in mind."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, before I tell you, maybe I'd better make sure you meant it. For
one thing, what are you going to sail in?"
"Good question." Up until that moment he had not given much thought to
personal finance. The truth was, he was broke. "I don't know if I can
scrape up enough money to build an _Odyssey_ _III_. It's a problem."
"Well, I'll tell you what I think. I think Bill owes you at least a
boat for all you did."
He shrugged, not quite agreeing with her on that point. You don't pitch
in to help out an old friend, then turn around and send him an invoice.
"Maybe, maybe not. But in any case, it would be minus the ten grand I
owe him for the bet I lost."
"Come on"--she frowned--"that's not fair."
"Maybe not, but a deal's a deal. Poseidon was the god of the sea, and
the god of anger. This is Greece, so maybe the old gods are still
around. Maybe I tempted Poseidon and pissed him off. Anyway, the sea
got angry, and that's how it goes. The way of the gods. Ten big ones."
"Well," Calypso Andros said, "speaking of gods, Aphrodite was the
goddess of love and beauty. The Greeks were smart enough to give you a
selection. So you ought to think about burning some incense to her next
time. Or something. Maybe fall in love. I hear she likes that, too."
"Good suggestion." He glanced over.
"Michael, I feel so rootless," she said finally, leaning against him,
strands of hair across his shoulder. "Not close to anybody, really. Now
that SatCom doesn't need my mothering any more, I want to try and start
a few things over . . . and the place I want to start is Naxos. _My
_Odyssey."
He just nodded, understanding.
"I want to go back to my old home," she went on, almost a
sad confession. "I haven't been there for over twenty years. We had
such a beautiful little whitewashed house. Looked out on a bay. It was
tiny, but I still sneak back there in my dreams. I want to make sure it
survived."
"Don't think you have to worry. The shock wave was probably well
dissipated by the time it hit Paros and Naxos. Fact is, I doubt it did
any real damage to any of the islands."
'Then why don't we go there together? Your _Odyssey_ and mine."
"It's a done deal."
"Good." She straightened, suddenly becoming businesslike. "Just as soon
as we find out about VX-1. If it made orbit and if anything is
salvageable. Georges should know by tomorrow morning. Then I want to
split for a while."
"It would do us both good. Have to. And you know, since we're
definitely going to need some transportation, I think I'm getting an
idea." He nodded down toward the twenty-eight-foot Morgan, pristine
white, bobbing at anchor in the harbor. "Looks pretty seaworthy to me.
Think Bill would mind?"
"With all the SatCom stock I've got now?" She reached out and touched
his face. "I'll just fire him if he says a word."
* * *